


Newton Work, or: It's Always Sunny in the Hong Kong Shatterdome

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Pre-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Pre-Slash, Time Skips, absolute fucking crack premise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: When Nate poses the question of how Newt was able to stall the Precursors for an entire decade, he and Hermann weave the enthralling tale of The OSHA Inspection of 2023. Excitement! Suspense! Vague adherence to the plot of Charlie Work! Will K-Science pass? And what's all this about chickens?
Relationships: Nate Lambert/Jake Pentecost, Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Newton Work, or: It's Always Sunny in the Hong Kong Shatterdome

**Author's Note:**

> okay this concept has been in my head FOREVER, but since I wanted to create a Charlie Work parody that actually worked in the pac rim universe, which meant a semi-complicated plot, it was hard as, like, fuck. that being said, endless thanks to charles for helping me figure the story beats out. @shakesexual on twitter, @bae-science on tumblr!

Newton Geiszler considered himself a connoisseur of awkward. An honorary doctor of it, even. If you could distill that shit into a palatable form and hold wine tastings for it, he would win one of those fancy professional certificates no problem. 

The issue, of course, came with him often being at the very epicenter of that awkwardness. Newt would, after the humbling experience that was the last decade of his life, readily admit that he hadn’t been the most… tactfull of teenagers. Growing up skipping middle school and bouncing straight from sophomore year to MIT didn’t really give one much time for social and emotional development. So he’d had some faux passes and dyed his hair some embarrassing colors. Sue him. Being a neurodivergent kid was a trip.

That didn’t make the situations in question any less painful, though, and as Newt shifted lower in his seat while hour three of negotiations concerning his amnesty after (admittedly to the PPDC, coerced under threat and delivery of torture) war crimes that ranged from the mundane (bioweapons) to the outright cuckoo bananas (what the fuck even _was_ the Mega Kaiju? Newt didn’t know) dragged on, he reflected that maybe a little humility towards Hermann in their time of trading blows would have been worth not hooking only himself up to the noggin of Godzilla and kickstarting the world’s most convoluted possession plot. He hadn’t even gotten any cool Kaiju powers as a result, aside from some slightly sharper canines and eyes that were now faintly bioluminescent. 

Sitting next to him with ramrod-straight posture that had slowly drooped into a weary slump over the course of the meeting, Hermann ran his hand through his hair and dragged it down the back of his neck. Newt nudged his foot in a comforting gesture.

“Do you need me to fake a panic attack?” he murmured quietly. “If I have to leave, I’m pretty sure that means everyone else does, too.”

Hermann hid a smirk behind one hand. “Ask me again in another two minutes, and you’ll get your answer,” he grumbled back.

Across the table, Jake Pentecost appeared to share the same sentiment, letting out a long whoosh of breath.

“Alright,” he said firmly, “I don’t know about you lot, but I need something in me or I’m gonna get really pissy. Break for lunch?”

Nate looked as if he was going to argue, but caught a pointed look from everyone else in the room and cleared his throat. “Lunch,” he said. “Lunch is good.”

The rangers and the rest of the Shatterdome officials rose and pushed in their chairs, filing out the conference room door in muted discussion that Newt wasn’t really interested in hearing. He handed Hermann his cane and pushed his chair back into place after he stood, feeling his face warm slightly as Hermann gave him a pleased smile. They walked to the door together, starting in the direction of the mess hall before a voice from further down called out.

“Doctors!” said Jake, waving to them while Nate subtly grimaced. Newt glanced over at Hermann, who gave him a look that said “Only if you want to”.

“Might as well get someone on our side,” Newt said flatly, and kept pace with Hermann to catch up.

“So,” said Jake cheerily, slowing his step so the shorter men didn’t fall behind, “Gottlieb. How’s things?”

“ _Newton and I_ ,” Hermann said pointedly, “are well, thank you. He’s already spread the rest of his infernal figurines all over our quarters, and I’m waiting for the day I trip over one and gain double jeopardy.”

Newt snorted. “Yeah, like you didn’t have Knifehead on your desk, dude.”

“And what about it?” Hermann sniffed. “I’m allowed to be sentimental, especially now.”

A grin spread itself unbidden across Newt’s face. He bumped Hermann’s shoulder with his own. “Sap.”

“Groupie.”

“Oh, you have a fan club now? Damn, I wanted to be founder.”

Hermann coughed a little at this, face reddening. Jake and Nate looked as if they had just walked in on their parents making out.

“Uh,” said Nate, “so. Things are good then. That’s good.”

“Real eloquent, mate, top-notch,” Jake drolled. Nate rolled his eyes.

“Surprised you know what eloquent means.”

Newt let out a bark of laughter at this, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes widened. “Shit. Sorry.”

Jake reached over and lightly punched him in the arm, moving slow enough that he didn’t flinch. “Nah, you’re right. Nate can be funny if he tries really, really hard.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “He’s growing so much. I’m so proud.”

Nate just made a stiff sort of noise at that, but crossed his arms as they entered the mess hall and stepped in line. “Hey, Dr. Geiszlerー”

“Just Newt is fine, really,” Newt said, holding up his hands slightly. Nate gave him an odd look, but continued.

“Right. I’ve got a question for you. About you and the Precursors, if you don’t mind answering it.”

Newt felt his stomach drop a couple of inches down his abdomen, but swallowed. “Uh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I mean, there’s not much important stuff you guys don’t already know, but…”

“Nah, this is different,” said Nate. “Iー” He appeared to consider his words for a moment. “Okay. You’re a supergenius. You have six doctorates. And they’re a race of billions of super geniuses with technology light years more advanced than ours.”

“Okay,” said Newt, raising an eyebrow, “what’s your point?”

“So, it should have taken you way less than ten years to build all of those drones and merger-bots and Breach portals. Like, I don’t know, six tops. How the _hell_ did you manage to keep them from starting their plans sooner?”

Newt blinked. This was not the question he had been expecting. “Um…” He thought for a second. “It’s honestly kinda stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Hermann said, at the same time Jake cut in, “Mate, you stalled the bloody Kaiju for a _decade_. That ain’t stupid.” Newt shoved his hands in his pockets and wiggled them.

“You really wanna know?”

Nate nodded. “It could be extremely valuable information.” And then, “And, y’know. I’m curious.”

Newt blew out some air. “Uh. Well. Honestly, it all started back in 2023 with the OSHA inspection.”

Nate and Jake stared at him. “Wait,” said Jake, “what?”

“No no,” said Hermann, beginning to catch on to Newt’s idea, “I remember that. You led that poor woman on a wild goose chase because the lab was an absolute mess.”

“Never failed an inspection once, and wasn’t gonna start then,” Newt said proudly. “And that day right there is how I honed my stalling skills.”

“How the _fuck_ did that happen?” Jake said, ignoring Nate’s glare at the curse. Newt glanced at Hermann.

“You wanna fill in what I forget, babe?”

“More like what you omit for vanity’s sake,” Hermann said dryly. Newt laughed.

“Yeah, okay. So, it was the spring of 2023, and Hermann and I had been sharing a lab for about a year now thanks to the budget cuts. And, y’know, we were making the best of it that we could…”

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“Hermann I swear to Christ, if you steal my pencils again I’m gonna take one and ram it so far up your ass that the stick already in there comes out through your goddamn throat!”

“Those are _mine_ actually, and you can keep the rest of them seeing as _you’ve_ chewed them up like a teething toddler! Which I would consider apt behavior for your maturity level!”

“I’ve still got a bruise on my face from where you threw your stupid chalk at me; do not fucking _talk_ to me about maturity!”

“Oh you’re right, it looks quite lonely! Have another!” yelled Hermann, and pitched another stick at Newt with the speed and form of an expert fastball. Newt barely dodged in time, wincing at the sharp crack it made as it snapped in two against his keyboard. The cause of their fight (which he couldn’t quite bring to mind at the moment, but it was definitely Hermann’s fault) faded from relevance like a rainbow in a snowstorm. Hermann was going to _get it_.

“Hey dicks-for-brains, be careful with Freddie!” He rushed over and rubbed out the white spot the chalk had left, feeling for any chips or dents. Hermann looked as if murder had become an even more enticing option.

“You named your bloody electric piano ‘Freddie’?”

“Uh, duh, what else was I gonna name him?” Newt gave it a soothing pat. “The Virgin-Annoyer 3000? I hadn’t met you yet.” Another piece of chalk whizzed past him, and he squawked. “You can’t fault me for that joke! You wear vests to parties!”

“Sweater vests are a classic and professional option that still allows for comfort, you _troglodyte_!” Thwack.

Newt spotted a piece lying by his feet and quickly hurled it back. “You’re the one who looks like an actual dinosaur! Who taught you English, fucking Neville Chamberlain?” Thwack.

“Yes, while you were learning yours from the dog-child in that ridiculous rock-and-roll cartoon!” Thwack. Hermann’s aim was improving at a dangerous rate. Newt took a strategic point behind one of his dissection tables.

“Do you mean Max from _A Goofy Movie_?! Is that the reference you’re trying to make? Rock takes up a miniscule portion of the soundtrack you dipshit; it’s mostly Disney pop!” Newt grabbed a scalpel and pointed it in Hermann’s direction. “If you’re going to make ludicrous pop culture references to insult me, the least you could do is get them fucking right!”

“Fine!” Hermann shouted, “Wesley Crusher rang, he’d like his personality back!”

Newt sneered. “Joke’s on you, Wil Wheaton got hot _and_ was on _Welcome to Night Vale_!”

“Ah, then that makes _two_ things you don’t have in common!”

“Oh _fuck off_ , you think I’m sooo sexyー”

“You are not only demonstrating all the tact and linguistic ability of an adolescent amoebaー”

“And I’ve seen you staring at my ass at least three timesー”

Hermann looked affronted. “In _those_ bloody _corduroys_?”

“They were fifty percent off and the only Hot Topic in Hong Kong was going out of business; don’t fuck with me!” Newt screamed, and began to stalk forward with the scalpel clenched tightly in his fist. “You act like you’ve got everything together Hermann, but one of these days I swear to Christ I’m gonna show you just how quickly I could take you apaー”

“Dr. Geiszler, if you value what’s left of your job I would advise against finishing that sentence,” came a voice from the doorway. Newt, blade pointed at Hermann (who had been about to close his fingers around Newt’s tie), froze. As did Hermann. 

People tended to do that when Marshal Pentecost entered the room.

Newt dropped the scalpel faster than a cat caught with something it shouldn’t be eating. Hermann whipped his hand behind his back, and his other into a salute. “Sir!” he said with a conviction that made Newt want to gag. “IーI’m terribly sorry; Newton and I were having an argument because he hadー”

“Oh don’t you _dare_ act like this was my faultー” Newt started, but a look from Pentecost silenced him. “Uh. I mean. How can we help you today, sir?”

Pentecost’s gaze swept over the lab, lingering on Newt’s particularly natural-disaster-esque half. “I am here to inform you gentleman that you’ll be having a very special visitor today. One that, I insist, deserves your utmost respect and attention.” He gave Newt a long, unreadable yet perpetually unimpressed look. “You especially, Dr. Geiszler.”

Newt shrunk slightly under his stare. “And, uh, wーwho would that be? Sir?”

Pentecost blinked slowly and deliberately. “Ms. Sui Lan Lam from the Hong Kong Occupational Safety and Health Association.”

Newt audibly heard his entire abdominopelvic cavity flop onto his Doc Martens. His face felt drained of blood. “I,” he said in a choked voice. “Um. Uh.”

Beside him, Hermann made a similarly panicked noise of disbelief. “I’m so sorryー she’s coming today? As in, within this current block of twenty four hours, today?”

“Thirteen-hundred sharp,” replied Pentecost. “Which means I believe you have…” he checked his watch, “exactly twenty minutes to form a plausible excuse as to why a tornado was specifically let loose on the right side of the lab.” He gave them both a thin smile. “But you two are some of the brightest minds of this generation, so: I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

As Pentecost turned to leave, Newt shot Hermann a look that could only be described as “I’d like lillies on my casket, please”. Hermann dismembered him with his eyes.

“Oh, and gentlemen,” Pentecost said, pausing just outside the doorway, “I do expect a passed inspection. We have a war to win and a planet to save, and if I’m forced to waste valuable time and resources fixing violations?” The smile vanished. “You will not enjoy the mood it puts me in.”

The lab door closed behind him with an ominous thud. Newt gulped.

“Well. Guess I better find wherever I put my lab coat.”

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Jake was barely holding in snickering behind his pressed lips. “Holy shit.”

Nate looked like he couldn’t decide between perturbed or mildly impressed at the insults. “You two really were… like that back then, huh?”

Newt couldn’t help a grin. “Yeah. Anything you’ve heard, besides the Kaiju-fucker stuff? Probably true.” He patted Hermann’s arm fondly. “There’s a reason people jumped ship so fast when our funding ran out.”

“That, and it was understandably unbearable working in a lab that constantly smelled like formaldehyde and burnt coffee,” Hermann said.

“Yeah, so they stuck you in there with me to add mothballs to the mix. Eau de Nerds.” He laughed. “Probably got worse during the last few months when we were basically living in there.”

“Anyone who spent longer than three minutes inside without an air mask certainly deserved a medal of honor, yes.” Hermann cleared his throat. “But back to that day; Newton and I had been assigned to ‘work together’ as the K-Science Division heads, technically, but we had never even considered actually doing so until that point. And then, all of a sudden, it became our only option.”

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Newt, as was his main response to situations of crisis, lept into action, seizing any sample still on the dissection benches that he could and flinging them into their containers. He stacked them three at a time and made a beeline for cold storage as Hermann desperately tried to make any sense of organization out of Newt’s desk.

“How do you _find_ anything in this?” he said, voice a mix of panic and slight horror at the sheer amount of papers strewn everywhere. Newt popped his head out of the freezers.

“I have a system!” he shouted “Don’t fuck it up!”

“Your system is six different violations in itself!” Hermann snapped, and slid most of the paper together into a clean stack with frightening efficiency. He opened one of the drawers and tried to neatly place them in, but everything from spare microscope parts to a box of granola bars had been stuffed in there, and he eventually had to just shove what he could inside and push the drawer closed. Newt wheeled a bench over to the far wall and looked to be judging how clean it was. Hermann made a face.

“You wipe that petri dish down with bleach or so help me God, Newton.”

Newt shot him a dirty look, but grabbed the bottle of bleach and a towel from one of the cupboards and began to spray the top. Hermann gathered up Newt’s variety of chewed up pencils and neon pens and tossed them in the cleanest looking coffee cup on the desk. The rest he took by the handles and carried to the sink, where the biggest problem presented itself: the coffee machine.

“Newton,” he said, “where are we going to put the coffee maker?”

Newt froze, obviously having forgotten the rule of no food in the lab. “Uh…”

“Oh, you’re no help,” Hermann grumbled and set his cane aside to begin scrubbing at the mugs in various stages of moulding. “When you get a moment, take it to the supply closet and hide it under a bucket. It’s due for a cleaning anyway.”

That was too sound of an idea for Newt to argue, so he moved on to the next bench in silence. His arm scrubbed at a breakneck pace, and when all three were clean, he started on the countertops, which were littered with beakers, more paper, and bits and bobs he didn’t even remember he _had_.

“Dude, wake up call; I’ve got to do a stuff purge after this,” he said, sweeping the whole mess off and into a tub. He found a lid, wiped down the cleared area, then paused. “Hey, uh. Is your ladder allowed?”

Hermann opened his mouth for a retort, but fell silent. It wasn’t exactly the most… stable piece of equipment. “ _Bugger_.”

“Fuck,” said Newt, and looked at it nervously. “Where the hell are we gonna put that?”

Hermann did a jerky little motion with his hands, trying to think. “Iーahーwe couldー” He grabbed his cane and stamped it on the ground. “Bloodyーdamn it! It’s too tall; she’d see.”

“I’ll see if there’s anywhere in dry storage we could hide it,” Newt said, and quickly dashed off to the large supply closet (although really, it was even too big to be called that). Hermann moved on to collecting all of his chalk pieces and putting them back in their box, and was just about to begin wiping the boards down when a loud “Fuck!” came from the other room. Newt reentered as quickly as he had left and skidded to a halt, eyes even more panicked.

“Hermann,” he said, voice gravely serious, “we forgot about the chickens.”

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“Wait wait wait,” said Jake, holding his hands up, “where the hell do chickens come in here?”

“Oh, uh,” said Newt rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment as Hermann narrowed his eyes at him, “well. The thing is. I was doing some experiments on organic reaction to Kaiju mucusーwhich, yes, they have, don’t look so grossed outー and I _did_ requisition some mice, but then I accidentally named them, and one thing led to another, and next thing you know you’ve forgotten to take your meds one night and built them a stimulation maze.” He chuckled nervously. “Crazy. So, uh, I ended up having to… tactfully intercept one of the kitchen shipments and steal a few chickens.”

“But… you had the mice,” Nate said, confused. Newt looked affronted.

“I couldn’t just kill Hermann Jr.! He was our lab mascot!”

“He was a common house mouse bred in captivity for death by experimentation,” said Hermann flatly. “The chickens were a nuisance.”

“That’s why I kept them in the dry storage during the day,” Newt explained. “At night I took them out for walks and stuff, and I had a UV lamp so they didn’t convalesce from lack of sunlight, but I _technically_ wasn’t supposed to have them, so I kept them there between experiments. And it worked fine!”

“Until the inspection,” Jake surmised. Newt nodded.

“Uh, yeah. Lab rodents are okay with proper containment and hygiene, but chickens… well, they don’t really have a rule list for chickens becauseー”

“Because they are the most insolent and intolerable animals on the face of the planet,” said Hermann. “Every morning when I came in, there were feathers and manure everywhere.”

“You just don’t understand applied sciences, dude,” Newt said, pointing a finger. “Those chickens helped win us the war.”

“Those chickens nearly cost us the inspection.”

“Yikes,” said Jake, cringing. “Did the inspector find them?”

Newt sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well… not exactly.”

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When Sui Lan Lam entered the K-Science laboratory, Hermann was standing stock-still with a posture only achieved by those very, very afraid of their parents. He gave her what he clearly hoped was a serene, charming smile, but actually looked like he was about to vomit.

“Ms. Lam,” he said pleasantly, extending his free hand for her to shake. She took it crisply and gave it one firm pump up and down.

“Dr. Gottlieb,” she said, already looking about the lab with narrowed eyes. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Hermann, if that were possible, turned paler. “Ah. Er. Only good things, I hope?” he tried. Lam blinked at him cooly.

“Things,” she said simply. “I’ve heard things. Now, why don’t you begin by showing me around.” It wasn’t a request, but a polite command, and Hermann gulped as she removed a hair net from her purse and placed it over her head.

“Ofーof course.” He began to walk towards his chalkboards, hoping to begin with the cleanest section. “This is my, ah, work area. As you can see, there’s nothing strewn about or in an open area where someone might trip.”

“Yes, I assumed your side would be free of that,” Lam said. Hermann felt the part of himself always on the watch for certain comments bristle.

“And why would you think that?” he asked in an even tone. Lam looked at him as if he were an idiot.

“Dr. Gottlieb, OSHA’s regulations aren’t just to protect able-bodied people. If anyone could leave anything anywhere, just because they knew they would be able to get around it, I don’t imagine we’d have a single accessible place on the planet. People like yourself with physical disabilities have to think about that sort of thing most of the time; thus, my assumption that your personal work area would have the necessary clear path.” She clicked her pen and scribbled something down. “Did I word that incorrectly? I do apologize if I did. My husband uses a wheelchair, so it’s the first thing I often look for.” She gave him the briefest of smiles. “Force of habit.”

“Er.” Hermann tensed the hand holding his cane, not sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased. “NーNo, you were perfectly tactful, thank you.”

“Excellent. Now, speaking of your cane, does it regularly come into contact with organic materials that are not allowed outside of the lab?”

“Occasionally,” Hermann said with a small shudder, remembering every time he had had to push a thrown sample away with the butt of it, “but I always _thoroughly_ sanitize it afterwards like you would any other item.”

Lam nodded and wrote something else down. “Good. Speaking of organics, where _is_ Dr. Geiszler? I’ll need to speak to him about his side of the areaー”

As if on cue, Newt appeared from dry storage, rolling a large covered box out on a trolley. When he saw Lam, he smiled wider and even more forced than Hermann had.

“Hey, uh, Ms. Lam! Good to see you again! Always a fun day when OSHA comes, amiright?”

Lam looked at the box curiously. “What’s that?”

Hermann cut in, “Er, just something from our own storage. Neー Dr. Geiszler is delivering it to the J-techs. All perfectly allowed to leave the lab, I assure you; just some basic supplies they’ve run out of.”

Newt nodded faux-casually and, with a thumbs up, began to push the cart towards the door. Then, a few seconds later, he heard a sound that made him freeze.

_Cluck_.

Lam didn’t turn from where she was now inspecting the bolted lab benches, but Newt knew it wouldn’t be long if the chickens didn’t keep quiet. He heard it again. _Cluck_.

Gathering every last brain cell that had gotten him those six pHDs, Newt settled on the only course of action he could think of; one that had never failed to get him out of a situation where people needed to completely ignore him and let him leave without comment: he started talking.

“So, uh, Ms. Lamーuh, how’s the husband? Last I heard he’d finally beaten you at mahjong? Gotta say, I thought, person working for freaking OSHA? No way he’s gonna top an eye for detail like that. But I guess he finally figured out the trick, huh? Say, what does he do again?”

Lam gave Newt an almost pained look of surpriseーpossibly at the length and rate he was able to keep producing noise without breathing. “He’s an architect,” she said, clearly not sure how long a speaking window she would have. “His firm just finished with a new high rise in Shanghai.”

“Oh, cool!” Newt continued, pushing the cart ever closer to the door. “Great! Great city, Shanghai; never been, maybe will! Granted, it’s not too popular now what with the coastline, but personally I can’t see people’s issues with living there when it’s so close to a Shatterdome, anyway. Maybe it’s the income level? They can afford to move out and inland and stuff.” The door was almost within a few steps; just a little bit longer… “Anyway, I’ll be back in a few. Just gonna drop these off, say hi to a few folks, and you can pick my brain all you want about my excellent and totally up to code lab practices! Herms, don’t show her my samples without me!”

And with that, Newt half-skipped the last few steps out the door, swung the trolley around a corner, and breathed a sigh of relief. He lifted a corner of the blanket up and glared at the chickens clucking around their cage. “If you dickheads get me coded because of this, you’re not getting any walks for a _week_.”

Then, he dropped the corner down and set off in the direction of his quarters. These guys had to go somewhere, after all.

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“You hid the chickens.”

“Yes.”

“In your room.”

“Essentially, yeah.”

“Jesus Christ, Geiszler.”

“In my defense, at least we can now say that isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever done!”

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When Newt returned to the lab after wrangling the chickens into his room, he allowed himself a brief sigh of relief. Finally, the worst of the inspection’s crisis was over.

Then, just as Hermann and Lam turned to see him walk inside, he noticed the door to the storage room was slightly ajar, and felt every drop of blood in his face make a speedy exit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck fuck.

To make things even worse, Hermann and Lam were directly in his path to the door, and there would be no way of getting over there and closing it without drawing their notice. Once again, his mind spun to concoct a plan. He found one. It was absolutely fucking horrible.

However, if Newt had to choose between his fear of Pentecost’s reaction to a failed inspection, and Hermann’s reaction to what he was about to do, well… he’d take a cane to the face any day. At least that would leave him with an ounce of dignity intact.

_God_ , he thought, _I hope Hermann doesn’t kill me for this_.

Plastering on what he prayed was an excited smile, he quickly walked over to where Hermann and Lam were standing, grabbed Hermann’s hand, and kissed him with the passion of someone full of excellent news. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Lam blush and avert her gaze. Shifting his weight back slightly, he flicked the bottom of the door with the toe of his boot hard enough that it swung shut, closing with barely-noticeable click. 

Newt pulled away quickly, scanning Hermann’s utterly shocked face for any signs of impending violence. When he saw none, he quickly said, “Hey, guess what _babe_? The paperwork went through!”

Hermann’s brow creased in a mixture of confusion and evidence of a rapidly building explosion, so Newt kicked the inside of his good foot and gave him a pointed yet cheerful smile. His eyes flicked over to the shut door, then back at Hermann. Hermann, God fucking bless the man, got the message.

“Wonderful,” he said in a strangled voice, staring at Newt with the oddest look Newt had ever seen, “erーdarling. Well done.”

Lam cleared her throat awkwardly. “What, ah, paperwork?” she asked. Newt blinked.

“Uh. Lab animals. Requisitioning lab animals. Biー _uh_ , real pain to get approved.”

“Really? I would think with the nature of your experiments, you could get them easily. What kind of animals are they?”

Newt made a face like a cat presented with a pickle for the first time. He blurted out, in the voice of a pubescent teenage boy, the first thing that came to mind, which was, of course: “Chickens.”

Lam frowned. “Chickens? That’s a bit unorthodox.”

Newt looked to Hermann for any help whatsoever, but the man was staring down at their still-clasped hands like they had started growing extra fingers. Whatever. “Well,” said Newt, letting go and giving his side a small flick, “we _are_ dealing with some pretty unorthodox subjects of experimentation, if you ask me. Chickens are some of the closest living relatives we have to the dinosaurs, and you can see a lot of similarities between those guys and the Kaiju, so I thought that’d be a good place to look.”

“Hmm,” said Lam. “Well, I do expect proper procedure regarding non-rodent test subjects to be followed if you bring them in alive.”

“Uh,” said Newt, sensing an opportunity to stall. “And what would those procedures be, exactly?”

Lam, bureaucrat to her very core, took the bait like a starving trout and launched into a _highly_ detailed explanation of (without her knowledge) all the many ways Newt had been breaking code after code when it came to harboring chickens in a laboratory. With a glance to make sure Hermann wasn’t still on another planet or something, he let his shoulders untense just the tiniest bit. This could take _all_ day.

⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅

Jake stared at the both of them like they had just suggested Hermann take up Irish step dancing. “So… you two just never talked about that again.”

“Yep,” said Newt placidly, giving Hermann’s hand a squeeze. “Never.”

“And Gottlieb,” he said, turning to Hermann, “you never asked Newt _why_ he chose that particular idea so quickly.”

“In my defense,” said Hermann embarrassedly, “I was fully convinced my reaction to it was one of extreme discomfort.”

“So was I,” said Newt. “I didn’t wanna be, like, a jerk about it.”

Lambert’s face was more expressive than Newt or Hermann had ever seen it. “You have _eight_ pHDs between the two of you.”

“In STEM,” said Hermann dryly.

Newt brightened. “Funnily enough,” he said, “I was gonna go back and get a seventh one in psychology after the First War, but that, uh…” he sucked in a breath through his teeth, “kinda got derailed.”

“Maybe get that one squared away after you’re cleared, mate,” said Jake with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Really? Y’think it’d do any good?” Newt asked without a trace of sarcasm. Hermann visibly rolled his eyes.

⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅⋅𖥔⋅

After speaking for nearly twenty minutes on the issue of the chickens, Lam had to speed through the rest of the inspection to make her next appointment. Newt was able to get away with tactically directing her towards the cleaner parts of his lab space, and once Hermann started functioning like a normal person again, the two were able to keep up enough of a verbal-physical ping-pong that they ushered Lam out the door _just_ before she started looking too closely at the cold storage doors, and with points to spare. Once the lab doors swung shut behind her, they breathed twin sighs of relief.

“Next time,” Newt said, suddenly overcome with the urge to lie down on the grating and not get up for several hours, “we check the ‘dome calendar when people start coming into the lab and wincing more often than usual.”

“Agreed,” said Hermann. He walked straight over to the couch, set his cane down against one of the arm rests, and collapsed onto the cushions. “Also, if you _ever_ bring _any_ kind of animal into here that does not have explicit paperwork allowing you to do so again? I will personally find a recipe that suits it.”

Newt, forgoing the floor, joined him. “Whatever,” he said, slumping down so that his chin was pressed against his chest. “I’ll file the actual shit for them tomorrow. For now, I’m gonna, like, give thanks to the fucking universe and all that.”

Hermann muttered something in what sounded like Yiddish, but Newt couldn’t be bothered to care if it was a prayer or a curse on him. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past him to be both.

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“So good and bad endings to this story,” said Newt, raising and lowering his outstretched palms. “On the good side, we did pass the inspection and escape with our lives. Pro there.”

“Oh, let’s not be dramatic, Newton.”

“On the bad side,” he continued, wincing a little at the memory, “I did end up filing the requisition forms for the chickens. But I guess some… mix ups happenedー”

“People made the logical assumption when confronted with a request for nine live chickens.”

“And they passed them on to the kitchens.”

Nate and Jake made expressions at the same time that both conveyed the general tone of “yikes”. Newt nodded sadly.

“Yeah. I missed my kiddos. They were great lab partners.”

Hermann sniffed. “If that’s your definition of a lab partner, I shudder to imagine what experiments you were conducting on me.”

Newt leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “The most important one, actually: how long will it take Extremely Handsome Subject to fall in love with me?”

“Twenty-two years, two alien invasions, and a great deal of Stockholm syndrome,” Hermann said sarcastically, but he remained holding Newt’s hand. “Also, I know for a fact you tested whether or not I could tell the difference between cold tea and those horrifying energy drinks of yours.”

Newt shrugged. “Anything is science if you write it down in enough detail. Speaking of which.” He turned to Nate. “That answer your question?”

“It leaves me with more, actually,” said Nate, but he looked as if he was deciding against asking them. “Uh. Thanks, Newt.”

He and Jake took their filled trays and, with a thumbs up from Jake, left to go sit with the other Rangers. Newt gave them a little wave.

“No problem!”

Hermann watched them go with a pleased expression on his face, and Newt looked at him questioningly. “What’s that for?”

“I do believe you’ve just convinced those two of your complete and total innocence, Newton. Well done.”

Newt blinked. “Really? How?”

“Because,” he said, a wry smile playing on his lips, “no one who truly possessed the malice and cunning to almost bring about a second Kaiju invasion, then fool everyone into believing he was possessed the whole time, could possibly have been stupid enough to do all of _that_.”


End file.
